


The Bridge Between Worlds

by Uthizaar



Series: The Other Roy Harper [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: ARGUS, Arrowcave, Blood and Violence, Complicated Relationships, Dreams and Nightmares, Jealousy, Justice, M/M, Memories, Memory Loss, Mirakuru, Past Relationship(s), Revenge, Secrets, Sequel, Spoilers, suppressed memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uthizaar/pseuds/Uthizaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bridging series between Part One and Part Three of 'The Other Roy Harper'. Roy & Oliver return to the Arrowcave after the successful completion of the mission at the end of 'In Love With the Wrong Queen,' which you should probably read first, if you haven't, it's quite self-referential. Oliver helps Roy retrieve his lost memories and then some.</p><p>
  <b>**In process of rewriting this bridging fic**</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Roy followed Oliver down the stairs into the empty, dimly lit Arrowcave. He should be happy, he should be grinning like a loon, hell, he should be super-horny, but he’s not. Because Oliver’s walking ahead of him like someone on their way to a hanging. And little seeds of doubt begin to sprout in Roy’s mind about whether Oliver meant what he said, meant any of it. Because even though they just kissed each other, in full view of Laurel, Roy couldn’t forget what he had done to Sarah, killing her in cold blood or under the influence of the mirakuru, it didn’t matter, she was dead and he was responsible. But Oliver hadn’t shot him, not even when Roy demanded that he do it, even with Laurel standing there, even with the promise he had given her.

Oliver gestured to the open space opposite their suit racks. ‘Get changed, there's something we need to do.’

Roy frowned at him, ‘Uh, really Oliver? Already?’

Oliver turned to look at him, eyebrows raised, ‘What?’ He paused as realisation struck and he coughed, cheeks turning red as Roy stared at him, Oliver was never embarrassed. ‘No, Roy, this is something else, something more important. There are things I need to tell you, especially about what you think happened to Sarah.’

‘You know something?’ Roy looked at him, confused, his tone a little hurt, ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’

‘It’s complicated, and I didn’t know how. Just get undressed and we’ll talk.’

‘Ok.’

Roy walks over to the cabinet and quickly strips off, his undershirt soaked in sweat. He pulls it off and goes over to the sink, runs the water for a bit and splashes it over his body. He glances back to see Oliver standing in the center of the room looking away from him, casual clothes in place of his suit. Roy quickly finishes up and dries off, pulling on a fresh t-shirt and sweat pants, before hanging his suit up. He returns to the center of the room to see Oliver now holding a candle and sitting cross legged on the floor. 

 

He nods opposite him and Roy joins him, a confused frown written on his face.

‘So, uh, well there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to just say it.’ He paused, taking a breath, looking uncomfortable, ‘Sometimes things happen that we don’t remember. Traumas, accidents, events, maybe it’s because of drugs; the mirakuru for example. Or it might be because of strong emotions like fear or anger or jealousy,’ Roy watched Oliver carefully as his voice took on a faraway tone, as if the older man was talking about himself as much as about Roy. 

‘What are you trying to say Oliver?’

He sighed deeply. ‘I don’t know Roy, I guess I’m just trying to avoid this. I’ve been avoiding this for some time. Ever since you told me about the dreams, the nightmares, I’ve been afraid of this. When you were under the influence of the mirakuru, you, uh, you...’ Oliver paused, as though choosing his next words with care. ‘You, um, you did some things, that weren’t exactly…normal. It wasn’t you, not really.’

Roy frowned, feeling an uncomfortable sensation rise up in his stomach, was Oliver aware of what happened that night they had fought against Iron Hands? Did he know what Roy had done to him? Roy only had a vague, slightly foggy memory of it himself. But he had found the pictures and video he had taken that night, some weeks ago. He didn’t like to admit it, but he had jerked off a few times looking at Oliver’s scarred, but ripped body, imagining his hands on those rock hard pecs, drifting down his abs to that place of forbidden pleasure. He had even gone so far as to imagine it was Oliver buried deep inside him, instead of his fingers. The memories caused his face to heat as Oliver glanced over to him, his own thoughts fixed on that night in the bell tower, when he had given Roy the first dose of the ‘cure.’

‘What did I do, Oliver? Did I…come on to you?’

‘Uh, not…no. No, you were just a bit more obvious than you normally are.’ Oliver bit back his first response, there was no need for Roy to know everything; he was already blushing enough. Although Oliver wasn’t exactly sure why, maybe it was better not to know, after all Roy did have his, uh, ‘gay’ awakening during the mirakuru. ‘No. It’s something a lot…’ He stopped and bent over, lighting the candle, ‘It’s best if you remember it yourself.’

‘Uh, ok.’ Roy frowned at him, ‘What’s with the candle?’

‘It’ll help you relax.’

Roy rolled his eyes and Oliver frowned at him in disapproval, ‘Ok, I’ll try.’

‘Good. Now, close your eyes.’

 

Roy sighed and let his eyes shut, his nose smelling the sweet, slightly spicy tang of the candle’s smoke. He feels himself swaying back and forth as the smoke enters his nostrils, his eyes heavy with sudden drowsiness. He feels a moment of panic before Oliver’s hands grasp his own, squeezing slightly. He lets himself drift along with Oliver soothing voice, the words washing over his ears in a confused haze of sounds, not even sure what the words meant anymore. Instead he drifts back to his nightmare scene, the world waving back and forth, like hot air on a deserted road. The candle's perfumed smoke begins to take effect as he drops deeper into the dream world, not noticing when Oliver releases his hands. 

Oliver spoke carefully, his words slow and measured, removing any emotion from them, just as he had been taught. ‘We fought and you left for Central City, Slade and his men found you there, took you back to Starling and hooked you up to a machine, do you remember?’

‘Yeah, needles and blood.’ Roy shivered unconsciously, the images coming back to him slowly. ‘You came, saved me. Again.’

‘Yeah. But you weren’t yourself, we thought you’d be fine, we meant to keep you safe, keep you alive. I…it was close, but you survived.’

‘I don’t remember anything after the rain of glass.’ His eyes were still shut tight, hands in his lap, fingers interlocked loosely.

‘Rain of? Oh.’ That’s right, he had grappled out the high window after shooting Slade. ‘Well afterwards you woke up. I wasn’t there, Felicity was, and Diggle. They tried to restrain you, you resisted.’

‘Oh.’ A flash of memory burned through his mind, crouched on the floor, shirtless, watching Felicity look around the room. Then nothing. He frowned trying to remember more, but Oliver was talking again and he focused on his voice, a guiding beacon in the darkness.

‘You wanted to see me, find me, had some fascination with me. I guess I know that now, but I didn’t at the time, I would’ve been there. Anyway,’ Oliver took a breath, ‘we managed to track you down to the bell tower, you remember that, right?’

‘The bell tower? Yeah, I’ve been there. It’s muddled, confused, I don’t…’ His voice strained as he tried to remember.

‘Hey, it’s ok, Roy.’ Oliver patted his knee affectionately, ‘There was a fight, at the bell tower. Between Sarah, me and you. You were out of control, the mirakuru had taken over completely…’

Roy let Oliver’s words drift into his ears, his mind’s eye was reliving the fight, Sarah was there, blocking him from Oliver. Roy swallowed sharply, the sudden influx of emotion startling him; he could feel it all over again, that potent, deadly mix of jealousy and rage came boiling back into his stomach. He curled his hands into fists and ground his teeth as he saw himself grab Sarah by the neck and toss her aside as if she was nothing, his attention shifting to focus on Oliver, seeing his face filled with a sudden fear, his eyes darting over him, weighing him up. Roy saw him reach for his bow, releasing the arrow without a second thought.

‘You shot me.’ His eyes blinked open to look at Oliver, hurt in his voice.

‘Well, you didn’t give me much choice, besides you caught the arrow in mid-air.’

‘Caught the arrow…the arrow…’ He repeated the words softly to himself the nightmare scene replaying in his mind; he had an arrow in his hand, one of Oliver’s arrows, and he was throwing…no, wait, there was something else. The image faded from view to be replaced with a different vision. A memory suddenly springing forth, dark asphalt beneath him, head bowed as flashing lights slow to a stop behind him. The controlled tone of someone who knows he’s in danger but doesn’t want to show it. The subtle release of a gun’s safety as Roy doesn’t move, waiting for them to get within striking range. Their uniforms come into view, a flash of blue cloth beneath his hands, blood smeared everywhere. And then they are standing by him, their demands yelled at him, the words make no sense, but they’re a threat. So he lashes out, the first one hurled across the sidewalk and into his car, the other attacked with a lightning speed, the arrow buried in his chest with a sickening ease. Roy pauses and pulls it out, dropping the arrow and walking away.

 

Oliver watches Roy carefully; he had been silent for the last few minutes, his eyes blinking now and again, hands twisting and clenching. Then his eyes snapped open and Oliver knew he had remembered what happened. He looked at Roy, unsure if he should say something, watching as the man cried wordlessly, emotionlessly the tears fell down his cheeks. Roy looked over at Oliver and just sighed.

‘I…I killed them. Both of them.’ Oliver reached over to hold his hand, squeezing it gently and smiled at him sadly as Roy realised what he had done, the words falling from his mouth like rocks into the ocean. There were other memories too, vivid and desperate and broken, memories he didn’t want to look at as he glanced up into Oliver’s understanding eyes.

‘But you didn’t kill Sarah. Remember that. No matter what else, you are not responsible for Sarah’s murder.’

‘So being a cop killer is better?’

‘Well, I’ve killed a lot of people Roy, the sad fact is, it gets a lot easier the more you do it. And it’s not the first time you’ve killed someone.’

Roy’s eyes shot up to meet him, ‘You mean those…two from a while ago?’ His voice was cold, and Oliver nodded slowly.

‘Yeah. Them.’

‘There was a reason for that you know, they were bad guys, attacking people for weeks. My people, well, our people? It doesn't matter, the cops didn’t do anything about it, not enough evidence, witnesses wouldn’t come forward, the usual bullshit they spew when they don't want to get involved. Yeah, I have my own cases, Oliver. I don’t follow you on everything.’

Oliver frowned at him, ‘But, why didn’t you come to me? We could have taken them down, non-lethally, got justice. You remember what that is, right?’

‘Of course I remember.’ He snapped back, ‘But you really think their victims would have got justice? Reduced sentences, community service for nearly beating a kid to death, and why? Just because the attacker was hit on by the victim!’ Roy had stood up, his voice getting louder as Oliver stared at him in surprise, ‘They fucking deserved it!’

‘Alright, alright, Roy. Calm down. I understand.’ Oliver watched warily as Roy sat back down, blowing out the candle as he did so. ‘This sounds kinda personal, Roy, you know someone who was attacked?’

He gave a half shrug, ‘Kind of. It’s how I was tipped off to the attacks in the first place.’ He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and glanced at Oliver, his tone more muted, ‘Sorry I yelled at you. I guess it would have made more sense to tell you what was going on, but I knew you wouldn’t let me do what was right.’

‘What was right?’ Oliver repeated the words back, ‘Roy, killing someone, even if they're guilty isn’t right, it’s a choice, one you have to live with for the rest of your life. And it’s less about justice and more about revenge, you want to see them suffer, make them pay, believe me, I know.’ His voice had a faraway tone to it again and Roy watched Oliver stare into the extinguished candle.

 

‘Oliver?’ Roy started, ‘A lot’s happened tonight, and with this…revelation, I don’t... I don’t know how to feel about us. I need some time, just to figure everything out.’ Oliver didn’t say anything, just nodded and Roy frowned at him, ‘Wait, is this what you thought would happen? Is this why you did this?’

‘What? No, I just wanted to help you.’

‘Right.’

‘Look, Roy, my feelings for you are very complicated, pretty much the same way I feel about Felicity or how I felt about Laurel and Sarah.’

‘But, those are all women, Oliver. Isn’t it different with another man? With me?’

Oliver shook his head, ‘I’m sorry, Roy, I just…’

‘You just what?’ Roy stood up and walked over to get his jacket. ‘Come on, Oliver, tell me the truth, why did you kiss me?’

‘It felt like you needed it.’

‘What?’ Roy turned to stare at him. ‘Is that all?’

‘I don’t know what to tell you, Roy. I…’ Oliver stopped speaking and just looked at Roy, before shrugging helplessly. ‘In the moment it just felt right.’

‘And now? Do you regret it?’

Oliver didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. Roy shook his head and brushed past him, heading for the stairs. He paused as he reached the top, turning back to look at Oliver, ‘Hey, just remember it happened. Maybe you should take some time too.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’ Oliver listened to the door close behind Roy and stared at the candle. He felt uneasy, everything that had just happened had left him on edge; recovering Roy’s lost memories, hearing about his quest for revenge or justice or whatever. And then, those last few moments. Oliver wasn’t sure about anything anymore, he had spent the past fifteen years of his life thinking about women, sleeping with women and occasionally dreaming of a happily married life. But, with Roy, he upset everything. There was a part of Oliver that wanted Roy, but it was a small part, a part hidden deep and faraway. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dig that part out.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver stopped outside the hospital window, watching as Laurel spoke and nodded at her doctor. He watched as the man exited, smiling politely at Oliver as he passed. He hesitated before entering, knowing he had to do this, but dreading the conversation. He shouldn’t have been so foolish to kiss Roy in public, especially in front of her. He might have only had eyes for Roy in that moment, but when the younger man closed his eyes as they withdrew, Oliver had taken a quick glance back. He saw Laurel walking away stiffly, her face an ice mask, her eyes blazing with a fury that only she could possess; a bitter, biting anger of being betrayed. He had seen that look before, the same shock and rage mixed together as when Oliver had told her about cheating on her with Sarah. But now it was somehow worse, it wasn’t so much that she had seen him kiss a man, but rather that that man was Roy, the man she blamed for Sarah’s death, the man who just hours before had openly confessed to the murder. Oliver wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say, it was obvious that he couldn’t tell her the truth, like Roy said being a cop-killer wasn’t exactly better. 

Oliver cleared his throat and Laurel turned towards him.

‘Oliver? Why are you here?’ Her tone was cold, he could hear her frustration bubbling beneath.

‘I need to talk to you about what happened, earlier, with Roy.’

‘Oh. That.’ She turned away from him again, looking out the window at the city lights sprawling below them. ‘I don’t really see what there is to talk about.’

‘Laurel? Come on, how long have we know each other? Can’t we at least talk about this?’ He was being reasonable, his tone light but controlled as he advanced into the room, closer to her. She sighed and turned back to him, her eyes brimming with tears.

‘How could you Oliver? I don’t understand. He killed Sarah!’

‘No, no he didn’t.’

‘What? How can you know?’

‘He…it’s complicated,’ Oliver paused, licking his lips as he sought for the right words. ‘Roy’s done a lot of things, and most of them were the result of the mirakuru. You remember I explained that to you?’

‘Yes, I remember. So…?’

‘He didn’t tell you, tell us, everything. Until later. Well, it was Felicity who told me, actually. He never killed Sarah in real life, only in his dreams, his nightmares. He’s been having them for weeks, ever since she died. It’s brought back some bad memories that he didn’t even know he had.’

Laurel looked at him strangely, as if the anger had left her all of a sudden, her face returning to its normal pensive state. She frowned as a thought struck her, ‘Ollie, why did you kiss him?’

‘Uh…’ Oliver was a bit taken aback by her sudden change in tack and struggled to answer. He was silent for a few minutes as she stared at him, eyebrow raised. Why did he kiss Roy? Was it just the emotion of the moment? Was it a foolish mistake, a stupid decision that would forever change their relationship as teacher and pupil? Or was it something real? Did he feel the same way about Roy as he had felt about Sarah and Laurel, once upon a time?

‘Oliver?’

‘I…don’t know. I…it just happened.’

‘Are you gay?’

‘No.’ His response was quick, almost instant, his tone harsh enough that her eyes shot up in surprise. ‘I’ve never felt like this before, I think it was more of an emotional connection between us, rather than a…’ He trailed off as she gave him a half smile.

‘A sexual one?’ He nodded, feeling an uncomfortable heat spread up his neck. ‘Ollie, you should probably be explaining this to Roy instead of me. He’ll get the wrong idea.’

‘Yeah, he already has it, but it’s just so hard. He likes me so much, I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He made his feelings clear weeks ago, I just don’t know how to talk to him about it; every time I try it comes out wrong.’

‘Have you tried being honest?’

‘I don’t want to hurt his feelings, besides I’ve tried that before and he always goes into a tailspin afterwards.’

‘Hmm.’ Laurel frowned, her earlier anger replaced with a sort of guilt, realising her rage had been misdirected. Even when Roy had confronted them earlier, she had just felt something off about his insistence that he had killed Sarah, but it had been the first time she had been able to put a face to her grief. Perhaps it had been easier to blame Roy; he was right there, it made a weird kind of sense, now she thought about it. He was kind of a loner, idealised Oliver, was rescued by him, and worked closely with him. Of course Oliver kissing him probably didn’t help with that crush. Laurel didn’t want to go back to Oliver, she would always love him, but in the way that she loved her first boyfriend, or her pet dog when she was growing up. She cared for him and could see the stress in his eyes. She gently placed a hand on his arm. ‘Ollie, you need to talk to Roy and be honest. He’s a good person, even if he has demons in his past, you both share that. But you’ll never be happy unless you tell him the truth and he won’t be able to move on until he knows he can’t be with you.’ Her voice took on a faraway tone at that last part and Oliver looked at her as he realised she was talking about herself as much as she was talking about Roy. He nodded and turned to go. She watched him stop at the door, his face hard to read as he turned back to her.

‘Thanks, Laurel. You didn’t have to help me, but thanks. And I haven’t given up. We will find your sister’s killer and give her justice.’ His words were hard at the end and she simply nodded, trusting that he would try. But, even as she watched Oliver leave for real this time, he had a whole city of crime and evil to hold back, it would be up to her to chase down some leads, use all of her skills to help Oliver out. She turned back to the window and closed her eyes, a strange vision coming to her. Dressed in black leathers, a staff across her back, a blond wig in place of her dark hair and that same savage grin that Sarah had whenever she would ride off into the sunset.

 

Roy dropped his keys into a bowl by the door, feeling it shut behind him, the gale force winds picking up even more speed. It was a miserable night, rain pounding on the windows, clouds scurrying across the sky even as lightning split it apart and thunder rolled overhead. He shook his head quickly, his hair soaked and hanging down over his eyes, the normally puffed up fringe plastered to his forehead. The wintery weather had come upon them suddenly and he didn’t feel like hanging around the club waiting for Oliver to come back. He sighed softly to himself, how did it all get so screwed up? 

He quickly changed out of his wet clothes and rubbed his hair dry furiously, pushing it back up into his characteristic style. He glanced at himself in the mirror and gingerly touched his lips, remembering Oliver’s urgent kiss. At least it felt urgent, raw and full of desire. He walked back out and sat down on his couch, reaching for a cleverly hid bottle of bourbon. He couldn’t quite remember who gave it to him, or where it came from, but every now and again he’d pull it out and take a sip. A tiny taste to remind himself why he didn’t drink. But tonight something was different, there was a strange feeling in the air, as though he wanted to take that bottle and never stop drinking. It wasn’t even as though he thought it’d be a bad idea. Roy licked his lips a grabbed a nearby glass, wiping it clean with a tissue. He unscrewed the cap and poured a measure into the glass, setting the bottle to one side and holding up the glass to the light. The liquid was surprisingly dark in hue and he sniffed it carefully before bringing it to his lips. The first mouthful went down quickly and he coughed in surprise as it burned its way down his chest to his stomach. The second was easier and then the third and then by the time he had finished the first glass he had come to like the burning sensation of the strong alcohol.

He poured another glass and sat staring at the window, watching as the rain hammered a tattoo on it and let his mind wander. He thought about that moment when everything changed, the moment he realised that he wasn’t the hero he wanted to be, although he hadn’t felt like that for some time, even with the badass suit he got from…well, it didn’t matter. The past was dead, if only it would stay that way, because even though he had moved on, sort of, he still wished he had someone to speak to, someone who understood him, who didn’t need everything spelled out to them, someone…who could just be there, and not hide their true emotions. Roy rubbed his forehead as he downed another glass, refilling it quickly, not noticing that it spilled all over the table. He frowned as he sipped, he didn’t understand Oliver, one moment it was perfect, the perfect kiss, the perfect hug and then he goes and breaks it all apart, why did this always happen to him? Why did he always fall for the straight guys? Even back in high-school, he’d crush on the other jocks, drool over the perfect, preppy homecoming king, bottling up that emotion, those raw desires pent up inside and pretending, convincing himself that he liked girls instead. That he wasn’t thinking about her previous boyfriend when they kissed, imagining that he’d be tasting the guy’s lips instead of hers. And after a while he almost convinced himself that he liked them instead of guys, at least until that night he saw the Arrow. That sudden jolt in his stomach telling him that the past had resurfaced, that this emotion, this desire, was something real, tangible, something he wanted. And when Oliver kissed him, that one moment, absolutely perfect, a stop in time, it just felt so right. But why didn’t Oliver feel it? Why didn’t he get that they were meant to be together?

 

Roy sighed again and gulped down the last of alcohol in one go, relishing the burn as it hit the back of his throat, feeling the warm glow melt its way to his stomach. He pulled out his phone and scrolled down until he reached Oliver’s name. He paused over it, his thumb hovering, before thinking better and throwing the phone away onto the other side of the couch. He tried to stand, the ground heaving in front of him, he hadn’t drunk that much, he thought as he sat back down with a bump. 

‘Ugh, ‘he groaned, pulling his legs up to his stomach and hugging them. But he was restless. He sighed again and laid out flat, feeling the fabric of the couch under his fingers; an almost new texture, as he stared at the room swimming around him. He tried to close his eyes, but every time he did, all he saw was Oliver’s face looking at him with a sort of confused regret. Roy reached behind him and fumbled around until he grasped his phone again. He didn’t want to call Oliver, there wouldn’t be any point, instead he wanted to call the one person he knew wouldn’t, couldn’t, answer.

The dull rings echoed in his ear as he held it loosely against his head, letting it drop onto the pillow. There was a beep and the automated message played. Roy smiled sadly as he listened to the familiar words. ‘You have reached Kyle Westen, I’m not available right now, please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.’ The beep sounded loud in his ear as he took a breath.

‘Kyle…’ The words were slurred even as he struggled to pronounce the simple sounds of the man’s name. It had been the first time in months that he had said it aloud, the first he had said it without becoming angry or sad or guilty. ‘Kyle, man I wish you were here. Why’d you have to go and get killed? Why did you leave me here, all alone? Why didn't you even give me a gravestone to talk to instead of this fucking message box? Why didn’t you wait with me until Oliver was ready?’ His voice cracked a little then, ‘Oliver? Man, why’d it have to be him? There are plenty of hotter guys in this town, plenty of older men who’d want me, why doesn’t he? Why doesn’t he love me, like I love him, Kyle? Why am I even fucking talking to you? Why is your damn phone still working? Why didn’t I try and find your killer?’ Roy stopped, his breathing hard as he felt tears of frustration roll down his cheeks. He angrily wiped them away and gritted his teeth. ‘Oliver kissed me, you know, kissed me outta pity, probably. He doesn’t know what he wants, hell he doesn’t even know who he wants. At least you did. I’m sorry, Kyle, I should’ve been better to you, you sure were to me. I...I know we fucked up a few times, and you never told me about ARGUS, and I never told you about me and Oliver. I guess, I guess my time’s up. You’re never gonna get this, I wish I could’ve loved you, I wish, if this was another life, maybe. ‘m sorry…’ The last few words were mumbled out and he sleepily ended the call, curling back into a ball and hugging a nearby cushion to his body, unsure who he was thinking about as he faded into a drunken glowing haze, before passed out. 

 

Roy rolled over, his mouth was dry and nasty tasting, he raised his fingers to rub his eyes and groaned as the events of last night began to seep back into his mind. Only fragments came back to him and he didn’t remember any dreams, instead the one over-riding thought was that he had to call Oliver. He quickly turned over again, searching between the cushions for his phone. He stopped, staring at it as a half-forgotten memory pulled at him. He ignored it and quickly checked the time.

‘Shit, half two already?’ He made his way to Oliver’s number and dialled, in between coughing out the dry nastiness in his mouth. ‘Ugh, sorry, yeah, ok voicemail. Uh, hey Oliver, look, uh, we need to talk, so, um, meet me this evening by the docks, Pier 19. Neutral ground and all that. So, yeah, call me. It's Roy. Of course you know that...’

 

Roy was the first to arrive and Oliver spotted him walking back and forth along the docks, his face pointing towards the dark rippling water. It was the evening, night closing in around them, not quite as wild as last night, but the wind was cold on the open waterfront. Oliver walked slowly towards the other archer, his thoughts spinning in his head, a myriad river of things he wanted to say, things he wanted to tell Roy, things he never should’ve done, things he wished he’d done a thousand different ways. But he was here, standing in front of Roy, waiting for him to turn around and notice him, seeing the way he was pointing away from him, his eyes and mind obviously somewhere else. He reached out and tapped Roy on the shoulder.

‘Hey.’

‘Oh! Hey, Oliver, sorry, I was thinking about…something else.’

‘Uh, no problem.’ They stood in silence for a moment, Oliver examining Roy’s face carefully, seeing the distracted look in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth twitched every few seconds, watching as he pushed his lips together; the way he always did when he was thinking about something. Roy, for his part, gave Oliver the once over before his eyes skipped past him to look around at the dark unlit buildings behind them, the burnt remains of a warehouse off to their right, yellow crime tape fluttering forgotten in the wind. 

'So...?' Tired of waiting for Roy to say something, Oliver caught his gaze and raised his brows questioningly. ‘Well, if you’re not gonna start, I will. I took your advice; I’ve been thinking a lot. About us.’ Oliver gestured between them and Roy nodded. ‘So, it’s just, this is hard for me, Roy, I don’t.’ He stopped talking and Roy waited for him to continue.

‘Yeah? I just want the truth, Oliver. You like me, right?’

‘Yeah, of course, I like you. I’m…attracted to you, but.’

‘But?’ Roy ignored the simple admission by Oliver, even though he could see from his face that it in itself was hard to say. Instead he wanted more from Oliver. ‘But you don’t want to be with me.’

‘It’s not that, well, I don’t, I’ve never…’

‘I’m not asking for you to sleep with me Oliver, just that you admit there’s something between us.’

‘I…I can’t.’

‘You love me Oliver,’ Roy insisted as Oliver stared at him. ‘Maybe not now, maybe you don’t realise it yet, but you do.’

‘I can’t give you what you want Roy, but not because I don’t want to.’ His voice was quiet, Roy strained to hear the last words, ‘But because it’s too dangerous. I can’t let you be a target, I won’t let you get hurt because of me, because of what we do, the enemies we make. I have to be alone. I’m not saying that you have to be alone, you’re a better person than I am, and you’ve had relationships with other…people.’ There was a brief pause as Oliver experienced a lightning flashback to that apartment, the cunning grin of Roy’s boyfriend even as Oliver released his rage. He snapped back to the present as Roy glared at him with a mixture of sorrow and anger. ‘And you’re a nice guy, handsome, fit, young. That’s what your people like, right?’

‘My people?’ He arched an eyebrow as Oliver back-paddled furious, realising what he just said.

‘Uh, no, wait, that didn’t come out right.’

‘Really?’

‘Seriously, Roy, wait.’ He reached out to grab Roy’s arm, stopping him. ‘Look, you can probably have any man you want if you put your mind to it, someone safe, and normal and will treat you the way you deserve.’

‘I had someone like that Oliver.’ Roy felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn't want to talk about this with Oliver.

‘And he died?’ Oliver asked cautiously, unsure if it was the same person they were thinking of.

‘Yeah, he died. But even before that, when I was with him, all I thought about was you. I don’t want the “safe” option, Oliver. I want you. And I’ll wait, fuck it, I’ll wait forever!’

‘Don’t you get it, Roy? This life, this unending mission, means I have to be alone. I’m not gonna ask you to wait. You’ll just waste your life waiting for me. I want you to be happy, I don’t want you to be alone.’

‘Then we’ll be alone together.’ A defiant answer even as he felt the world slip away from him, Roy almost had Oliver. He looked up to see Oliver smile and nod.

‘Okay, you’re as stubborn as ever.’ Oliver sighed but placed a friendly hand on Roy’s shoulder and the two archers turned back towards the city, ready to continue their crusade. Even if Roy leant a little heavily into Oliver’s grip, the older man felt a strange lightness about himself, as if they had actually reached a resolution, the truth was pushed back into his mind; he wasn’t ready to let Roy meet someone new just yet. 

 

Post Script.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He had felt it vibrating silently during the demonstration, but focused on the task at hand before tending to it. He unlocked the screen and pressed the missed calls icon. He held it up to his ear, nodding as his colleagues filed out of the lead-lined room. ‘You have one new message. This message has been re-routed through secure channels and has cleared ARGUS Security Protocol Delta.’ He rolled his eyes, he had heard the same robotic words a thousand times before, and undercover operatives always got their messages delayed due to overzealous and paranoid security chiefs. The tone chimed and he heard the slow breathing of someone he used to know. He frowned as he heard the first word, ‘Kyle…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay in getting this one finished, re-wrote it about three times before I was happy with it. Hopefully you've enjoyed it.


End file.
